Saturday, May 13, 2017

A lot of clients hire me because they've moved into a new home, the youngest child has started 1st grade, finally graduated their last child from college, they're about to have their first baby or they're about to have their 1st grandchild, a child is about to be married. Those are the most-common triggers for hiring me, mostly.
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Interesting, yes?
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Then, there is the group of people who were born with the love of gardening in their soul. Oddly Providence decided not to sprinkle those souls liberally. More odd, many of the souls born with a love of gardening only discover it, for its true 'Being', decades after trodding Earth.
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If you've read this far, you are one of us, a Garden Whisperer.
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A woman from Canada, Betty, contacted me for Online Garden Design last year. Betty and her husband had just bought the best house on a tiny lot with views of mountains, valleys, & ocean ever conceived. Minuscule lot.
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Betty is in the installation phase now. We used Facebook to see/speak to each other, Pinterest boards, plat, texts, emails, phone calls. Had a live Facebook video/voice appointment with her contractor prior to his work commencing, wish he could be cloned dozens of times over he's so good.
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Text from Betty yesterday, "I try to explain my garden to friends. They really don't get it. ' Why bother? Your garden looks fine Blah Blah.' Exhausting. Fortunately husband gets that I need this garden, he just walks past it everyday briefcase in hand, golf clubs in his car. We know US". Journaling last weekend included this exact topic, the wild urge to garden told thru the metaphors of the Light of the universe. Again, if you've read this far, what follows is for you too, not just Betty. More than gardening, quotes below cover all noble passions that drive our souls towards activities that feed more than our own needs, but the needs of Earth and other souls treading their journey.

"Looking so, across the centuries and the millennia, toward the animal men of the past, one can see a faint light, like a patch of sunlight moving over the dark shadows on a forest floor. It sifts and widens, it winks out, it come again but it persists. It is the human spirit, the human soul, however transient, however faulty men may claim it to be. In its coming man had no part. It merely came, that curious light, and man, the animal, sought to be something that no animal had been before. Cruel he might be, vengeful he might be, but there had entered into his nature a curious wistful gentleness and courage It seemed to have little to with survival, for such men died over and over. They did not value life compared to what they saw in themselves --- that strange inner light which has com from no man knows where, and which was not made by us. It has followed us all the way from the age of ice, from the dark borders of the ancient forest into which our footprints vanish...Man may grow until he towers to the skies, but without this light he is nothing, and his place is nothing. Even as we try to deny the light, we know that it has made us, and what we are without it remains meaningless."
Loren Eiseley.
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Pic, above, here.
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"Let it be admitted that the world's problems are many and wearing, and that the whirlpool runs fast. If we are to build a stable cultural structure above that which threatens to engulf us by changing our lives more rapidly than we can adjust our habits, it will only be by flinging over the torrent a structure as taut and flexible as a spider's web, a human society deeply self-conscious and undeceived by the waters that race beneath it, a society more literate, more appreciative of human worth than any society that has previously existed. That is the sole prescription, not for survival --- which is meaningless --- but for a society worthy to survive. It should be, in the end, a society more interested in the cultivation of noble minds than in change. Loren Eiseley.

Pic, above, here.
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More than a garden, Betty is paying for her garden with money inherited after her mother died. The feeling of honor, being asked to design a garden has never left me, 3 decades on. Adding to it, a mother's inheritance. Whew. Always prayerful about the work I do for others, now, praying the garden I create for Betty allows her mother's love to continue to surround and infuse her. Wanting my role in the garden to diminish quickly, leaving Betty, and her husband, in their new chapter. It's Betty's garden created from her mother's love.

Pic, above, here.
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"If we are to live and have something to live for, let us remember, all of us, that we are the servants as well as the masters of our fields." Henry Beston.
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"Every man for himself" is a doctrine for a feeding frenzy or for a panic in a burning nightclub, appropriate for sharks or hogs or perhaps a cascade of lemmings. A society wishing to endure must speak the language of care-taking, faith-keeping, kindness, neighborliness, and peace. That language is another precious resource that cannot be "privatized." Wendell Berry

Pic, above, I shot in a client's garden.
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"To be sure, Berry's "rugged individualism" is simply a more poetic term for our common complaint of "entitlement" --- an accusation usually aimed at the young, which upon closer inspection reveals itself as a major undercurrent of capitalist society itself. Contemplating how we got there, Berry points to the aberrant evolution of property rights --- something that originated as protection of the private individual and mutated into the destruction of the public good." Maria Popova.
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Quotes, above, are in the macro for everyone, we are each given myriad avenues to come upon the light. My tiny wedge is the micro of gardening. Bearing witness, thru the gift of clients hiring me, to changed lives, watching more than a garden take shape, new lives being born, rippling upon others & Earth in stewardship.
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"The more we go inward, the more we outwardly connect.", New York Times, about 2 decades ago. Came to a dead stop, reading it the first time. Seemed so selfish. Deeply myopic.
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Instead, its depth can never be known. Blessedly it can be lived.
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Garden & Be Well, XOT
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Why is it a necessity to follow your passion? Earth needs you to. Have learned the 'selfishness' of going inward to outwardly connect, is grace.
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Met a woman, Donna, sideways recently thru Beloved, she's been hired to do his books. Love her. More than doing Quick Books, this woman is having a relationship with it. I watch her in her chair, leaning into the computer screen, talking with it, laughing with it, cheering it, and see the same interaction others have in their gardens. She knows she's in stewardship with her client's livelihood and Quick Books is her partner, while working her own livelihood. Joy watching her grace in action.

Thursday, March 30, 2017

Last Friday I walked to our little post office, picked up mail, and waited in line to send a package. Waiting not an inconvenience in our small rural town. We know our postwoman, and most in line ahead of us, if that ever happens. A time to catch up on 'news' or better, gossip.
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I noticed a personal envelope in my hand from a couple I've worked for almost 20 years. It had to be an invitation, some sort of garden party. They've always included me that way.
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Instead, I read the typed/copied note, and had to pause, read it again. Mr. Smith died unexpectedly, his memorial service is....
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Note to self, Wait till you get home to read any future personal notes.

Pic, above, here.
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A few hours later Beloved received a phone call. Mr. Jones, a longtime friend of his, he had done a lot of work for Mr. Jones over the span of 3 decades, I met Mr. Jones 4 years ago, designing their new backyard/swimming pool, was murdered. Worse, Mr. Jones's 31 year old son is in jail and charged in the murder.
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Two widows in 2 beautiful homes, surrounded by beautiful gardens. Children, grandchildren losing their father, grandfather. Both men, bigger than life, literally pillars of their community, and so much more.
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Beloved had a surprise blow-out birthday party Saturday. He knew something was up, said he wanted everything called off. No party. For several hours early Saturday, Beloved was on the phone with various men friends, Beloved crying, and I heard everyone one of those men crying. Too late for the party, that show was going to happen. Several at the party were grieving their mutual friend. Magic happened. Their spirits lifted. The party Beloved dreaded, became a salvation, for those grieving. The large downtown church was standing room only yesterday. Later, after the graveside service, we spoke with friends about how the Saturday party truly helped the grieving.
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At the church service something said about Beloved's friend, was a beacon of lite about a seemingly insignificant fact. Mr. Jones had 130 employees. Every 2 weeks when their checks were cut, Mr. Jones always signed each check, never accepted the suggestion for rubber stamping them. Mr. Jones was signing those checks in gratitude, and in prayer for each name on the checks. Stewardship.
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I could not go to my other client's memorial service, it was the day of Beloved's party. Have sent his widow a note snail mail. Will call her soon. Tough call, but I wouldn't not call for anything. Selfishly, wanting to know that beacon of lite about her incredible husband.
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Have the same memory of both men, while working for them. When they asked me questions, walking in their garden, their eyes would be piercing, and the left ear cocked, not wanting to miss a word. More, they each did everything I designed. They got that memo too. Know the memo? When you're outside your scope of talent, hire an expert, then, most importantly, do what they say. I was in my 30's getting that memo. Better late than never.
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Oddly, got the memo about stewardship 5 years ago, really late in life, from the oddest source, my 8 heirloom chickens. They had finally grown large enough in their garage pin with heat lamp, to put into their big girl Chinoiserie style coop in the garden. Everything was fun-fun-isn't-life-grand until I closed the coop door and walked away the 1st time. What had I done? What if something happens to them? I'm responsible for them. This is awful. A few hours later it sunk in, caring for my chics, and garden are a privilege, washing-of-the-servants-feet.
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Garden & Be Well, XOT

Friday, July 8, 2016

Pulling the gate/columns forward, below, welcomes you from the wide world into their private world, elongates the entry, and adds a foyer to the front door. Painting the columns same as the house adds them to the footprint of the home, enlarging the home's territory.
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Painting the columns a different color, or if they were stone, still adds good features, excepting they become part of the garden, not the house.
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Great wisdom leaving the tops of the columns empty.
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Front door & light fixtures chosen well, they make the house seem taller.
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Note the gutters, below. Copper color, not the brick color. Well done.
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Roof, below, is like jewelry for the house.
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Repetition of square shapes, below, highlights the fabulousity of the tall round urns at the windows. Super contrast.
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This garden design has been done for centuries. Have seen it on several continents, and at all price points. Done it myself, more than once. Looks fresh & new with each reincarnation.
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Even the front door handle was chosen with care. Drapes vs. blinds, again, well done.

Monday, April 20, 2015

Instead, discovered Chinese snowball is a top member of the Ministry of Stewardship.

A small garden, Chinese Snowball was pruned into a tree. Who knew a bare multi-trunked tree with canopy on top is prime location for song birds to rest from predators, bring their lunch, and a place for my painter to sit & smoke cigarettes on hot Southern summer days, some times my choice of office for making calls?

This, above/below, is why to have a garden. Reminds me of doing math homework in high school. Every other problem had the answer in the back of the book, letting you know you've done a multi-stepped task right. One of my chief delights, and accomplishments, on this Earth, is what has been done in my garden with Chinese Snowball. And I didn't do it, Providence did.

Subsidiary focal points, above/below, graced.

Selfish, adoring my first Chinese snowball, I planted another, below. Shot this one while standing in the street.

At her feet, the potager, below. Is there one word encompassing the few moments a tree has as many blossoms on her arms as at her feet? Is this my tabernacle, given by Providence? Ruth always said something provocative in spirit when she shared at meetings for friends/families of alcoholics. And, invariable at every meeting for years, she spilled her cup of coffee. Elderly, of little breath, it was a delight every time those nearest rushed in to help. Total feminine power, but barely enough strength/air to walk.
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Ruth's funeral was standing room only at her little Southern Baptist church in a field, 1950's long low rectangular, red brick construction. Seated near the front, with a meadow view, tears, and the preacher droning. Alone in grief, until he said something riveting. Ruth's body was a tabernacle. Now, that was a curious thing, and I had zero idea what he meant. I looked it up. Not my job to tell you what it meant, it's for you to look up and know it from your spirit. (Blessedly have my inherited unabridged Webster's 10" thick, don't you?)
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How did Nature become so dissected from the bible? These moments of petals, throughout the year, with various shrubs/trees/groundcovers, are all tabernacle moments. A Life force beyond my skills/knowledge/efforts. Humbling. In this beauty, death, regeneration, Providence skips merrily, the next day always another tabernacle.

Leaving the street, and stepping into my garden, below.

Look closely, below, at that window. It is my office window. When the Chinese snowball is well finished 'tabernacling' the tree beside it, Crape Myrtle will begin bloom.

My lot is 8500sf, a lot less than a quarter acre. Do you sense this? Neither do I. In the public realm, below, of my garden, do you see that many houses nearby Neither do I, they are there, and this is reality, as is the tabernacle. I built it. My intention? No clue. Providence found me.

After much thought, years, I figured out why my garden lives so big, it's the sky, above, I own it.

My garden frames the sky, and in return Providence gave it entirely to me. A gift you can take for yourself. It's Tasha Tudor's favorite line of poetry, "...Take joy"

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Garden & Be Well, XO Tara

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Took these pics without my glasses.

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Shooting my office window, I began to tear, but quickly remembered a friend's wisdom, "Make no major decisions after dusk and before dawn." Moving, leaving my garden is rending my heart. During the day I'm so excited about my new garden, at nite the chattering monkeys in my head. Tearing up shooting the pic, no energy for another crying jag, I realized it was moments after dusk, and I would ignore the urge, did, and laughed.

Thursday, September 18, 2014

A client recently asked, "That crape myrtle tree at my patio is too messy, is it ok to cut it down?"

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A beautiful crape myrtle it was planted before we met.

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Alas, they are messy. For weeks. Very messy.

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My answer?

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It's important to be tied to the land, follow its progression through the seasons. Devote unencumbered time, just you and your garden. No phone, no agenda. Let the body work in your garden, while your brain is finally using regions untouched. Answers to questions you didn't know you had will arrive. Plants emit wavelengths absorbed through your skin, let Providence work into you. Literally.

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At the front end, it seems like work. But that's wrong. It is grace & joy waiting for you to tap their powers.

Part of my inner strength, pure grit, arrives sideways as I putter in my garden. Body responding intuitively to doing the next-right-thing while mind has left the shackles of this Earth.
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Maya Angelou knows why my answer is counterintuitive, below.

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I believe in more than a beautiful landscape, I believe the action steps of creating/keeping a beautiful garden are the key to a beautiful life.

What I had sought as a beautiful historic Garden Design formula is instead the template of Providence.

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My garden, and Garden Designs have been organic & sustainable for decades.

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Organic & sustainable are not enough. Stewardship is the key.

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Take the key, it's free & simple.

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Organic & sustainable, in the great USA manner, are something to sell.

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Stewardship is within you.

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Garden & Be Well, XO Tara

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Pics in my garden this spring. Wish the chickens had been here my entire 3 decades. Their poop goes into the garden daily. Their eggs have become my 'Egg Ministry'. And gave me Stewardship. Understanding the relationship of Earth, livestock, plants, survival.

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For a beautiful garden & home filling you with joy, become my client,local/on-line.